


Till Death Do Us Part

by SnowyWolff



Series: Prumano Week 2019 [7]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Deal with Death more like, Deal with a Devil, I feel this is a wild ride of tags, M/M, Potential Fake Dating, Prumano Week 2019, This doesn't have a death tag because there's no actual death, but Death aka Lovino does come to visit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 15:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20391880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyWolff/pseuds/SnowyWolff
Summary: “Am I dead?” Gilbert asks, turning back to the man.“Funny you should say that,” he says.





	Till Death Do Us Part

**Author's Note:**

> For Prumano Week 2019: Day 7 - Omens

The rain has been relentless for the entire day and, though Gilbert has waited for as long as he possibly could to leave for the bus stop, he has to admit defeat. He runs, holding his bag over his head, but still his converse quickly soak through, water dripping from his hair, along his neck, and into his coat.

The bus stop is a fifteen-minute walk away; Gilbert makes it in half-time, slipping to a halt.

Thoroughly drenched, he almost trips into the lone man stood smoking in the corner of the small awning. He mumbles an apology and moves to stand as far away from the stranger as he possibly can in the limited dry space.

The bus is late, the sign announces, and Gilbert sighs. He hears the click of a lighter and glances toward the man who lights another cigarette.

Smoke shrouds him like mist, clings to his suit, and gives him a strangely ephemeral appearance. Yet, everything about this man is clear and sharp, from the angles of his face to the press of his suit. Even his eyes—no, _especially_, his eyes—are sharp and focused.

Focused on Gilbert.

The man offers him a cigarette.

“No, thanks. I’ve been trying to quit.”

“A shame,” the man says. His voice is sharp too, but very deep. Soothing almost, weirdly, like a warm blanket.

“Most find it a commendable effort.” Gilbert doesn’t know why he is engaging in a conversation but—

The man laughs. “To deprive oneself of a reprieve of the mundane. I call it stupid.”

“You must be smoking crack then.” Gilbert grumbles, “Break from the mundane.” He scoffs.

The man leans forward, eyes catching the light of the street light. “Life will kill you one way or another.”

“You must be fun at parties.”

“A killer.” The man smiles. It’s a little unsettling.

Gilbert snorts nonetheless.

The bus rolls up. Gilbert glances at the man, but he doesn’t move, only watches with that strange smile as Gilbert gets on and sits down.

When the bus drives away, Gilbert blinks, and the man is gone.

***

A week passes. Gilbert has almost forgotten about the encounter.

Almost.

He opens the door to his office. Pauses.

There, in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, sits the man, wearing another pristine suit and reading one of Gilbert’s reports.

“I’m calling security,” Gilbert says.

The man doesn’t even glance up, though his mouth quirks into a smile. “You could.”

Gilbert jumps as Emma, his secretary, pushes past him and places a pile of documents on his desk. She doesn’t even acknowledge the man, and Gilbert gets the eerie feeling that she can’t _see_ him when she leaves again, closing the door behind herself.

Patting down his suit, he finds himself feeling physical enough.

“Am I dead?” he asks, turning back to the man.

The man is leaning back in his chair, hands folded in front of his stomach. Now, no longer under the cover of rain and smoke, Gilbert can appreciate his appearance. Dark skin, dark brown hair that curls slightly, freckles cascading below the neckline of his dress shirt; he looks sophisticated. The three-piece suit is a dull brown that’s definitely old-fashioned yet strangely fitting. His brown Oxfords are well-polished and doing a great job at crumpling important documents.

“Funny you should say that,” he says.

“Oh.” Gilbert stares at him. “And are you the guy who’s supposed to lead me through the mistakes of my life or something?”

The man smiles. “No. Lucky for you, that’s not my job, and your life has been pretty… tame, so to really bother with something like that would be rather tedious.”

“Then who are you?”

“Oh, there's many names.” He thinks for a moment. “I suppose Lovino suffices for now.”

“Right, okay.” Gilbert scratches his head. “So, then, if I'm not dead, why are you here?”

“Well, that's the thing, Mr. Beilschmidt. I am here precisely because you aren't dead.”

“Um?”

“Yes.” Lovino laces his fingers together as he leans his elbows on the desk, resting his chin on top. “You're a complication, Mr. Beilschmidt. A conundrum, if you will.”

Gilbert is quite lost now. “So… I’m really not dead?”

“Yes. Do keep up with the program, will you?” Lovino stands up and Gilbert forces himself not to recoil as the man circles him.

“But I’m meant to be dead?” he still asks, just to be certain.

“Yes. And no. The fates do this tricky thing that even you not dying when you were supposed to be dying could be part of your life.” Lovino stops in front of him.

“Right. And you’re here to… do what? Exactly?”

“I’m here to figure out why you did not die that day in the rain.” His eyes slide away from Gilbert as he mumbles thoughtfully, “Was it because you saw me?”

“Err?”

“All things in due time, I suppose.” Lovino shakes his head and settles back in Gilbert’s office chair, crossing his legs. “Irregardless, you need to be observed.”

“Observed?” Gilbert frowns. “That's invasion of privacy, isn't it?”

Lovino looks incredibly amused. “I already know all of your dirty little secrets, Mr. Beilschmidt. That's part of the job.”

Gilbert squirms. “Uh, all of them?”

“Your past is safe with me, love.”

Gilbert can't help but glance at the door. “Right.”

Lovino appears disinterested. “There's no need to be so uncomfortable. I have no interest in outing you.”

“Good.” Gilbert wrings his hands.

“I don't understand why humans like to make such a fuss about it anyway, but what do I know?” Lovino shrugs before he picks up Gilbert’s fountain pen. “Now, the thing with this observation business is that it's incredibly boring.”

“Boring.”

“Yeah.” He uncaps and recaps the pen a couple of times, looking thoughtful. “I've done it a million times already and, between you and me, it never ends well.”

Feeling the need to tug at his collar, Gilbert clasps his hands behind his back. There's nothing much he can do, if that's the case, but it's still not a nice cloud to have hanging over your head so obviously.

“I see.”

Lovino gives him a long look, and when Gilbert meets his eyes, he can feel chills runs down his spine.

“How interesting,” Lovino drawls. He points the fountain pen at Gilbert. “Let me cut you a deal, Mr. Beilschmidt.”

“What?” Gilbert takes a wary step backward. “You're the devil now?”

Lovino grins. “No. My deals are an eye for an eye.” He gestures. “Fair.”

Gilbert can't help but snort. “I don't think I'll take your word for it.”

“Then allow me to stipulate. I'll see to the reconsideration of your, let’s say, due date.”

“Reconsideration doesn't sound like ‘you'll live a fulfilling life until you're eighty-seven and you die peacefully in your sleep’ to me.”

“Is that what you want?”

Gilbert hesitates for a moment. He could ask for more. But if he's being honest, living a long life has never interested him. Now, an interesting life… Certainly a deal with some occult being would add to that.

“Maybe,” he says. “What's it you want?”

Lovino is smiling a smile that makes Gilbert think he's read his mind. But Lovino doesn't comment and instead says, “Show me that life is worth living for.”

“Excuse me?”

“You want to live until you're eighty-seven; that's fine with me. But show me that it's worth living up to that age. Show me what makes humans so attached to the mortal realm. Show me how to live.”

“You want me”—He points at himself for good measure—“to teach you”—He points at Lovino—“how to be alive?”

“Oh, being alive is easy,” Lovino says dismissively. “It’s the living bit that interests me.”

Gilbert frowns.“To be alive and to live are the same things, aren't they?”

“No.” Lovino smiles. “They are not. Perhaps they feel the same because they happen at the same time, but there is a distinct difference.”

“Right.” Gilbert doesn't understand, but what he does understand is that it's vague. “So, how would I know, or you for that matter, whether I've shown you how to live or not?”

“You'll have to take my word for it.”

“Doesn't sound very fair to me.”

Lovino ponders for a moment, then pushes himself from Gilbert’s chair once more. “All right. How about this then. Teach me how to be human. Your thoughts, emotions, way of life. That's close enough to what I'm interested in. As a human, you know how humans are meant to act, so it should be easy for you.”

“And how long do I have for that?”

“As long as your current clock ticks.”

“And how long is that.”

“Long enough.”

Gilbert narrows his eyes. Lovino doesn’t budge.

“Let’s keep an air of mystery, shan’t we?”

Gilbert feels it’s to hide the fact Lovino doesn’t know either. But he is right. An unknown deadline is easier to work with than a physical one. It forces Gilbert to take it seriously right from the start.

And really there’s no loss in accepting this deal if he’s being honest. If he refuses, he lives for as long as he would, should he accept and fail Lovino’s deal. If he accepts, there is a chance for him to live longer.

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair wearily. “So, if I teach you how to live—how to be human—I’ll get to live until I’m eighty-seven?”

“And peacefully die in your sleep.” Lovino smiles. “That’s all.”

“Okay.” Gilbert nods. “Okay. All right. And there’s no fine print? You won’t push me into traffic the moment we leave the building?”

Lovino holds up his hands. “I’m not allowed to directly interfere with death. I cannot kill you.”

“Only make deals.”

“Only make deals,” Lovino repeats, amused.

Gilbert wrings his hands together. “Okay. Fine. I’ll take it.”

“Wonderful.” Lovino takes the fountain pen and, when he uncaps it this time, the tip has turned gold. He bunches up the sleeve of his suit and writes something on his arm, the ink gold. He gestures for Gilbert’s arm and Gilbert gasps as the cold ink hits his skin, another sentence copied onto his arm.

“My end of the deal,” Lovino says slowly. “Your end of the deal. These are the terms.”

Gilbert can’t read the language yet understands what it says anyway. The words are clear in his mind.

When Lovino caps the pen, he asks, “And that’s it?”

“Well, there’s still a signature to be taken.”

That’s easy enough. Gilbert gestures for the pen, but instead, Lovino cups his jaw with one hand, draws him down, and kisses him. There’s a flash of blinding white before Lovino leans back onto his heels, looking rather self-satisfied.

“There we go.”

“Oh,” Gilbert says.

The door opens, making Gilbert jump as the ephemeral feeling dissipates. Emma squeaks, almost dropping the folder she’s holding as she clutches her chest.

“Mr. Beilschmidt! You have a meeting in ten minutes!” she says, exasperated.

She glances at Lovino and pauses. Gilbert immediately starts to think of excuses as to who Lovino is and what he’s doing here, but he freezes as Emma says, “Mr. Vargas, I see you’re distracting your husband again.”

“Naturally,” Lovino says and squeezes Gilbert’s arm. “Can I have one more minute, please?”

Emma gives him a sly smile, then gives Gilbert one of her final-warning looks. “Of course. One minute.”

“Thank you, Ms. Peeters,” Lovino says as she closes the door, then turns to Gilbert. “Do breathe, Gilbert. I know I said being alive is easy, but there are some basics you need to keep doing.”

Gilbert ignores the teasing. Instead, he opts to whisper-shout, “Husband?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Gilbert thinks there’s a million reasons why not, but all his brain can currently produce is a vaguely distressed noise.

Lovino gives him a long look, then sighs, takes Gilbert’s hand, showing off the small golden band that had definitely not been there that morning, and tilts his hand to show off the matching ring on his own.

“I thought it’d be easier to show me how to live if I keep close to you,” Lovino says. “And humans seem so obsessed with love and romance and marriage; I thought it’d be a great place to start.”

Gilbert doesn’t know what to say and before he can come up with something, anything, to argue against Lovino, Emma knocks.

“Time’s up.” Lovino smiles. It’s so much more devious than any of his previous ones. “A deal’s a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old prompt / semi-draft I revised because it used the same prompt and I really liked the idea,,, if I ever want to continue this (which, no promises because people dont care enough as is), it’d be one heck of a fake marriage au


End file.
